I broke my ankle the Saturday before last.  Legend states that that it went down like this:

Who am I to contradict legend?

In any case, I can state that I was at Princeton, as the sharp-eyed might have gleamed from the photo.  I did jump off that wall, and I did land improperly on the ground below. There was the sicking “SNAP” that no one wants to hear when they land, followed by  quieter one when I crumpled to the grass. My ankle had fractured in three places, which mean thatI could feel the bones grinding into each other as I moved my leg.  It was like a handful of gravel was underneath my skin.

If I had to break some bones, I did it in the best way possible. I was with friends, who handled the whole “calling 911″ thing as well as provided cupcakes in the hosptial later. Princeton’s campus MTs arrived straight away, and were quickly followed by paramedics from the just-around-the-corner Princeton Medical Center.  With the exception of  a clearly absentminded general practitioner who splinted my leg in a panifully incorrect manner–the orthopedist removed it with clear disgust–the staff at the hospital was cheerful and helpful. Plus, I had JR there, from  fall to surgery to release.

I was told by many that handled the whole thing well, joking and laughing instead of screaming and crying. Which should come as no surprise, really.  That’s just how I live my life.